Yumegari
by My Misguided Fairytale
Summary: To enter another's dream is to risk being lost to it, and some dreams are more hostile than others. Some dreamers are the most dangerous of all. [Based off the Yumegari Clamp light novel][Tatsumi/Kyousuke]


Yumegari

Genres: Supernatural, Romance

Summary: To enter another's dream is to risk being lost to it, and some dreams are more hostile than others. Some dreamers are the most dangerous of all. [Based off the Yumegari Clamp light novel][Tatsumi/Kyousuke]

A/N: _Yumegari _is an illustrated light novel by Clamp, first published in 1996 and then discontinued after two chapters. I found the story and the characters absolutely fascinating, so I wanted to take what little was given to us and try and see where the story would've gone. Knowledge of the source material is recommended before reading for maximum comprehension.

* * *

_"They enter the dreams of another person, observe all that is happening in the dreams, sometimes battle with the 'Enemy' that appears in the dream, and clear the obstacle in the 'dream' and the 'mind.'_

_That is the job of a 'Yumegari.'"_

_-Yumegari, chapter one_

* * *

_**Yumegari**_

* * *

The water slipped over the top of Tatsumi's head. It was crystal clear, but even still her vision was distorted as she struggled to reach the surface again. Her hands reached out and struck something solid—something curved.

That's right, she thought, remembering once more as one hand traced the smooth curvature of the glass, chilled from the temperature of the water. She's in a goldfish bowl. A goldfish bowl, in the dream. She's Tatsumi Houjyo. If she can remember that much, she can survive this.

Above her swam the fish with the red tailfin, looking enormous from the ripples in the water and the reflection in the glass. The fish turned, and the current from its tail sent Tatsumi spinning.

Her throat burned. How long had she been under the water? And where was the little girl whose dream she now occupied? Or had the girl become the fish?

It was swimming away. Tatsumi scrabbled against the glass, twisting her body around and bracing her feet against the glass before kicking out, both hands extended to grasp the fish's tailfin. It began to buck, as expected, and it was slippery and slimy as all fish are. But she could not let go—not until the fish took her wherever it was planning to go.

The girl was smart to transform herself into a fish; underwater, Tatsumi could not communicate to her. And if she could not talk, she could not get information out of her.

Tatsumi yanked on the tailfin, trying to get the fish to swim . She needed air. Instead, it shook its fins and dived straight down, through a whirlwind of bubbles.

She coughed, once, her throat desperately trying to suck in air, but instead, all she got was a mouthful of cold water.

There was a scar in every dream, a hole that she could manipulate to find her way out of it. A way to wake up.

The fish skittered against the edge of the bowl and Tatsumi lost her grip with one hand. Below, she could see the bottom of the bowl—a wide bed of teal gravel and a series of plastic plants grouped around a figurine of a diver, surrounded by bubbles. The bubbles were coming from the diver's equipment.

If she did not find a way to breathe, she will die and be lost in the dream. If she's lost, Kyousuke will never be able to find her. He'll die too. So she must.

With great reluctance Tatsumi released the fish and swam towards the figurine. She unhooked the respirator first and guided it into her mouth, clamping her lips around it and sucking in a deep breath of air. The canisters of the diver's pack came next, slipped over her shoulders, followed by the fluorescent green mask. She tipped her head back and pressed against the center of the mask, over her forehead, and exhaled sharply out of her nose. Bubbles streamed across her vision, but by the time she leaned her head back the mask was clear, and the pressure of the depth had secured it tightly to her face. She thought about grabbing the fins as well, but decided against it—on a second inspection, the figurine's flippers were colored a deep red. It brought a shiver to Tatsumi that she could not attribute to the cold water alone.

Kicking once again with both feet, the skirt and sleeves of her black _seifuku_ billowing in the water around her, Tatsumi swam in the direction she had last seen the goldfish.

As she swam, she tried to make sense of what she had seen so far in the dream. Whether the dream belonged to the little girl or not, the girl still believed that she was in danger of being killed—that by assuming the form of a giant goldfish, she could evade her pursuer. She despised the light, to the point where she would next attempt to eat the sun, having already swallowed the moon and stars. To the little girl, the sun would taste just like a ripe persimmon. Tatsumi could taste something like it in the back of her mouth just from thinking about it, but then she took a deep breath of canned air and the hiss of the bubbles reminded her once again that she was in a dream.

That's right. She must remember her training. Her own emotions and the emotions of the dreamer become the same in a dream. To enter another's dream, she must synchronize with that person. And then analyze what she felt, and what she saw.

At that moment, she could see nothing but water. Stilling, she relaxed, letting her body float, motionless.

She first felt it in the movement of her hair, and the fabric of her clothes. There was a slight current in the fishbowl. Very slight, barely noticeable, but the more she focused on it the stronger it appeared to her. Tatsumi followed it, seeking the fish.

A reverberation echoed throughout the water. Tatsumi bumped into the wall of the goldfish bowl, rising suddenly in front of her, and another reverberation shook the glass walls. She pressed her hands against it, trying to discern the current again.

_/ - Tatsumi - / _

She breathed out in a wreath of bubbles, turning around, keeping one hand pressed against the glass at all times to keep from twisting upside-down on accident. Did she imagine a voice calling her name?

/_ - Tatsumi! - /_

There it was again, and more forceful this time. The glass didn't seem nearly as cold as she remembered.

Turning in the water, Tatsumi looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of a red tailfin. It was entirely black, as far as she could see. And then she remembered:

"_I ate the moon and the stars," the girl said_. _"And tomorrow, I will eat the sun."_

It occurred to Tatsumi that the darkness she was seeing was the empty sky, above the water.

She kicked out with both legs, strong kicks, and stretched her arms out as she rose. On the ascent, her mask filled with water, and Tatsumi coughed around the respirator as her fingers scrabbled against the walls of the goldfish bowl that suddenly wasn't a glass bowl anymore, but a rough, rippled material. She kicked again.

The rushing sound of moving water filled her ears. Through the water in her mask and the bubbles from her respirator she saw a hand break the surface of the water and grasp her outstretched arm, tugging upwards. The rest of her followed, coughing and spluttering, and she used her other hand to push her wet hair out of her eyes, dragging the fluorescent mask up and off her head with the effort.

"Tatsumi!"

She had never been so glad to hear his voice. Leaning over the edge of the water, grasping her arm with one hand and her shoulder with the other, was Kyousuke. Tatsumi allowed herself to smile, to let the relief she felt at seeing him to show on her face.

"Kyousuke-san! You—you're here!"

"I came into your dream. You wouldn't wake up, and I—I couldn't let you get lost."

"What?"

Kyousuke tugged on Tatsumi's arms, pulling her over to the water's edge and helping her climb out. His glasses were flecked with droplets of water, his eyes behind them full of concern. "Let's get you out of here, and I'll tell you what I know."

Now that she could look around her, it was strange to think that the water of the fishbowl had become a beautifully landscaped pond. Even in the dim light, she could see how well-kept the area was, from the trees and shrubs to the paved walkways. The roaring sound she had heard came from a waterfall at the far side of the pond, and as she looked back in the water she could see a few small fish swimming around.

"It's a koi pond," Kyousuke said. "From how well-detailed this place is, I can only assume it is a direct replica of a place in the dreamer's memory. Is this place familiar to you, Tatsumi-chan?"

She shook her head. "No? I don't think so, at least." Far off, the only source of light came from a large house at the opposite end of the garden. All of the lights were on inside, but she could not see any movement past the translucent screens serving as windows of the _hisashi_.

"You collapsed on me, Tatsumi-chan," he continued. "Before we'd even made it inside. I'm not sure what is happening…but this does not seem to be a normal dream."

"It is normal, for dreams," she answered carefully. "But the problems the dreamer is facing are not. They're very hostile. I'm not sure what we can do to help them."

"The dreamer?"

Tatsumi shivered, and wrapped her arms around herself. Like before, the chill seemed to come not from the cold—in fact, the air was surprisingly humid. "Did you see a little girl around here?"

"No?" Kyousuke looked around, then back at Tatsumi. "A young girl? That's our client?"

His use of _our _did not escape her notice. Neither did the pennant in the shape of a carp fluttering by the doorway to the manor, its red streamers spinning in the nonexistent breeze.

The fish was leaving trails. Perhaps it wished to be found? "I don't know if the girl is our client or a personification of some sort of the dreamer. I spoke to her briefly, after I entered the dream. But even as she pushed me away, there were clues in the dream for me to follow her. The current in the fishbowl. The goldfish's red tail."

"Goldfish?" Kyousuke asked, as he helped her take off the diving equipment, setting it down carefully next to the edge of the pond. "In case we need it for later," he said.

Tatsumi set the mask beside the rest. "When she felt threatened, the girl transformed into a goldfish and filled the place with water to swim away." Tatsumi filled him in on what little conversation they'd had so far. "She thinks she'll be killed, that becoming a goldfish is the only way to avoid such a fate. There are no moon and stars here because she's eaten them. And she plans to eat the sun next…"

"What is it?"

"Tomorrow," Tatsumi told Kyousuke, "when the sun rises. That will be the scar in the dream. We'll see what happens to the girl when the sun comes up."

"But first we must find her." Kyousuke gestured towards the house. "Do you think she is inside?"

"I think we'll find answers here." Together, the two walked down a curved pathway of stone slabs, to where the base of the house stood against the rolling, wooded hill.

"It looks like a _ryokan_," he mentioned. "The type far out in the country."

It was traditional _shoin-zukuri_ style, rectangular and austere in its dark wood and sloped roof, with its high screened windows of the _hisashi_. It did look like a country house to Tatsumi, but it seemed more like a personal residence than an inn to her. "It's too isolated for that."

"I'll feel much better once we're out of here," Kyousuke said. "Something still doesn't feel right to me."

Up-close, the building was even larger than she realized. It was oversized, too, like everything else had been in this dream. It's a defensive reflex, Tatsumi realized—the larger size gives a better impression of security, just like how the large goldfish had been more intimidating than a normal-sized one. The size of the building she could reconcile with her deductions about the girl, but the style of it was not; it was stately and imposing and entirely at-odds with everything she'd seen of the little girl so far. The apartment in Asagaya had been all but unfurnished, and the girl had only been wearing simple white pajamas, and the scene with the goldfish bowl had been just as minimalistic. Perhaps, she thought, this was their first glimpse into the mind of the _real _dreamer.

Analyzing dreams was easier with Kyousuke to assist her. It was something that came very naturally to him, and he always seemed to ask the right questions of her when she described her own dreams to him.

They took the steps to the building's door, and Kyousuke reached for the sliding edge, pushing the door open. They walked inside, their shoes squeaking on the freshly polished wooden floor—Tatsumi's own were still wet, and she left a trail of marks as they made their way down the _hisashi _aisle. It was very warm in the house, but she cannot see any sign of a stove or fireplace. The heat seemed to come from everywhere at once, soft and comforting like a breath or a sigh.

Another sliding door was set against the far wall, leading into the inner _moya_, and once again Kyousuke opened it and entered first, keeping one hand in front of Tatsumi in case of any dangers or surprises.

The room is empty at first glance. Two walls are plain; the far wall is adorned with shelves full of papers and artifacts and statuettes of various value and size. A thick desk stands before it, its surface again covered with things—was this a metaphor for the dreamer's mind? Tatsumi wondered—and along the other wall stands a very architectural fishtank.

Tatsumi runs past Kyousuke's arm, pressing both hands against the cold glass; the goldfish within swims over to her before turning away, displaying its bright red tailfin.

Was all the light coming from this one fishtank? Tatsumi looked around sharply, gasping as she noticed for the first time that they were not entirely alone.

"Where did you come from?"

An older woman stood there, her back slightly curved, the wrinkles in her face and hands prominent but not so deep-set as to suggest infirmity. She wore black—an odd choice, thought Tatsumi, knowing it was a color favored by the little girl—in a formal cut and style, something stern and unforgiving.

And her eyes were very sharp; as sharp as they were light in color.

"I've always been here," she said. "I just didn't want to be seen, until now."

"You're the dreamer?" It was Kyousuke; Tatsumi looked between the old woman and the fishtank.

"No." It was nothing she could prove, only a feeling, but she knew it was true. "The little girl is the dreamer. You are…someone else."

"Chiyo is inexperienced," the woman continued. "Her dreams are not as stable, or as detailed. They do not mimic reality the way a good dream does. But such a dream still has its uses, doesn't it? It's much harder to escape from, for one."

"What do you know about good dreams?" Tatsumi's voice was calm and measured, but on the inside her mind was racing. This woman…was knowledgeable, and powerful. And she was here. Such a combination made Tatsumi suspicious.

"I know about the _yumegari_," the woman said. "I am, after all, the one who hired you. But you still have to complete your assignment. Tell me what you have learned about the girl. Analyze the dream for me."

"She believes someone is coming to kill her." Tatsumi's voice started frail but grew stronger with each word. "And I believe that someone is you."

"Very good. Continue."

"Tatsumi…" Kyousuke extended an arm in front of Tatsumi again, his voice sharp and full of warning.

"She's a runaway, isn't she? This is your home…she escaped it by swimming, against the current of the river, above the waterfall. But what I can't understand is _why_."

"And her mind?" The woman took a step forward; Tatsumi matched it with a step back. "What…_secrets _have you been able to unearth?"

Confusion swept Tatsumi. "What?" She searched through all of her deductions, and could not think of something that qualified as a _secret _the girl—Chiyo, the old woman had called her—was hiding. She glanced over at her partner.

"Well," the woman continued, "it won't matter soon. Now that my primary goal has been completed, I can move on to other matters." She extended an arm, whipping a _fusuma _panel out of the side of the wall, blocking Kyousuke from reaching Tatsumi.

"I wish to speak to the _yumemori _for a few moments. Alone." The _fusuma _extended completely and made contact with the wall on the other side. Stunned, Tatsumi looked at the wall now effectively cutting the room in half blocking her from the two of them, and ran to it, banging her fists against it and shouting Kyousuke's name.

It was a useless effort; she could not even hear a sound behind the wall, and it felt thick and impenetrable beneath her fists. Turning away from it, Tatsumi approached the fish tank and pressed her hands against the glass. The fish swam over, again displaying its red tail fin.

On the other side, Kyousuke regarded the old woman.

"Red tails on goldfish is a sign of toxic water," he supplied. "Of sickness."

From what he had been told of the beginning of the dream, it was largely empty—containing only the fish, Tatsumi, and the water. It had been everywhere…

"It represents her mind. You've…what have you done to her?"

"What did she tell you?"

"You were worried the girl had shared something she shouldn't have." A pause. "You shouldn't have."

"I'll be the judge of that. And of you." The old woman leaned forward, studying Kyousuke with those sharp, light eyes.

"You look like Tatsumi." And her mother, he almost added. "You both have the same eyes."

"I'm her great-aunt. We met once, when she was a child. But her parents were willful that she be trained only by them, and not by the clan at large."

"So it was all a test?"

"Your partnership is new." She paced, almost leisurely, towards the desk, absently picking up and setting down objects. An act meant to disguise a larger purpose. "It is you we doubt. And it is your abilities that are in question here, Kyousuke Kaga."

"Don't doubt that I have them. I won't let Tatsumi down."

"And therein lies the problem." Her eyes narrowed. "You should not be so strong. Where do your powers come from? Why has fate chosen you? You are not of our clan."

Kyousuke shrugged. "Maybe that's a good thing."

The woman's voice was sharp. "If you fail, she will die. You almost failed today." A laugh, as soft as it was cruel, escaped her. "If you died tomorrow, fate would assign another _yumemori_ to her. You should watch yourself."

"Is that a threat?" he asked.

"Yes."

Kyousuke straightened. "I see."

"I'm surprised you don't have any questions for me," she said. "You must be wondering how I'm even able to be here."

"Distance dreaming," Kyousuke said.

"You know of it?" Her lips widened in a wry smile, exaggerating the wrinkles that stretched from the corners of her nose and mouth. "I would be very interested to know what secrets hide within _your _mind, Kaga-san."

Kyousuke was about to reply, when suddenly a giant goldfish burst through the _fusuma _screens—

* * *

In the other room Tatsumi tried to talk with the fish, hoping she could coax the girl back into human form. "You know," she said, "we can help you. If you let us."

The fish wiggled a fin. Not the enthusiasm she was hoping for. "It's _your _dream." She tried again. "You have the most power here, you know. You should use it. You don't have to hide anymore. Not in this form."

Tatsumi sighed, recalling the earlier stages of the dream, when her emotions and Chiyo's had been nearly synchronous. "Even if you want to."

Some of her words seemed to have reached Chiyo, because the water in the tank began to flow over the edge, first in small dribbles, then enough that Tatsumi had to step back, casting a wistful glance at her newly-dried shoes as water flowed over them again. She looked up, past the _fusuma _wall, to where the barest hint of sunlight showed through the screened windows.

A splashing sound drew her attention. Where there had once been only one fish in the tank, now there were ten, all identical, swimming in circles, as even more water gushed over the edge of the tank.

The sun was coming up. And the girl was determined to get to it.

Tatsumi resumed her knocking on the wall, the sound of her shouting undone by the rush of water. Undeterred, she ran to the fishtank and reached inside, wrapping her hands around one of the fish. The second she touched it, it began to thrash, and it leaped out of her hands, flying through the air towards the _fusuma_, taking the most direct path towards the sunlight.

Where Tatsumi had been unable to budge it, the fish passed cleanly through, leaving only a spot of water against the paper. From the tank, another fish leapt, disregarding gravity as it soared beyond her reach, disappearing through the screen.

The next time a fish jumped, Tatsumi reached out and caught it, but the fish was stronger than it appeared, and it dragged her along with it. Tatsumi and the fish burst through the _fusuma_, and she lost her grip on the slippery tailfin. It continued on its path, fluttering over Kyousuke's head.

The foundations of the building shook as a dozen more fish jumped through, flopping into the desk and the walls as they struggled to reach the outside. As Tatsumi fell, the _fusuma _shattered, pouring water and even more fish into the small, wooden room.

The old woman shrieked as water pooled around their legs; she sunk her hands into the water, trying to grab any fish she could.

"Chiyo!" Kyousuke helped Tatsumi to her feet as the room continued to be bombarded by fish. The rest of the screened walls were tearing, the water having nowhere else to go, and even more fish disregarded the walls entirely, flying through them like they didn't even exist.

"Which fish is Chiyo?" he asked again, shouting to be heard over the rushing water.

"I don't know! Let me…let me think!" One caught itself briefly in Tatsumi's hair. The two staggered from the room, trying to keep their footing as the floor threatened to fall out beneath them from the weight of the water. The fish were larger now, as large as she'd seen Chiyo in the beginning of the dream—as large as she'd been as a human girl.

"The largest fish!" Kyousuke braced himself against the door as a larger wave of water rushed down the hallway and Tatsumi grabbed the edge of his coat with a white-knuckled grip. "We have to make it there first, to the scar in the dream! Before Chiyo eats it!"

They were swept up in the water, gasping from the cold of it, as the walls were crushed around them in a deafening splinter of wood and paper. Outside, the hillside looked radiant bathed in the first rays of sunlight, coating the green fields and the mountainside in a complete contradiction from the dark garden they had seen when it was night. Tatsumi met Kyousuke's eyes; his glasses were gone, swept away by the surge.

"I know this place," she said, climbing to her feet beneath the broken remnants of the door. "This is Shinshuu!"

"Come on!" Kyousuke grabbed her hand and pulled. All around them, fish were jumping out of the water, heading towards the bright disk of light hovering just over the treeline. They were smaller fish, barely as long as Tatsumi's arm, but then she caught sight of a flash of red in the water.

"I've got it!" she shouted as the fish jumped. It was monstrous, much larger than she'd seen earlier, but there was no mistaking Chiyo. Tatsumi grabbed onto its tailfin, tightening her grip on Kyousuke's hand as the fish lifted them out of the water.

"Don't do it, Chiyo!" Still Tatsumi tried to reason with the fish. "If you do this, you can't go back!"

Assuming or creating other forms is one of the first things she learned when she began training as a _yumegari_. In a dream, it is a useful thing, but it makes it that much harder to stay yourself when you wear another face, or divide yourself between different copies. For this reason, Tatsumi had never needed to do it seriously, in a job with her life on the line. And now Chiyo sought to exit a dream while in this form.

"Hang on!" It was Kyousuke, holding onto her with the same fierceness that held her to the fish's tailfin.

The sky was filled with what must have been hundreds of fish of varying sizes, their mouths gaping and fins twitching. Had it been like this when she ate the moon? What had she lost then?

The sun loomed overhead, the rest of the sky at this height nearly colorless, just like how the dream had begun. A quiet, unassuming, empty whiteness. And now, only this remained.

Tatsumi released the fish, and pitched herself and Kyousuke into the sun.

* * *

She awoke with a gasp, to the sound of someone calling her name.

" Tatsumi-chan! Wake up, Tatsumi-chan!"

One of her hands felt numb; Kyousuke had it held tightly in one of his own. They both lay slumped against the door of the Asagaya apartment. A light wash of sweat covered Kyousuke's face, slipping his glasses down to the edge of his nose.

"I'm awake." It took her a moment to really feel it, to remember the sounds and smells of reality to help ground her. This was definitely reality. "The girl-!"

She climbed to her feet unsteadily, followed by Kyousuke, and tested the doorknob. It was unlocked, and the door swung open easily.

Inside, the room looked much like what she had seen in the dream. It was small, and empty save for a bed that, also, appeared to be empty. The blankets on top were rumpled.

Tatsumi pressed her hands against the mattress. It was still warm—someone had been sleeping there, not too long ago.

There was movement under the comforter; Tatsumi peeled back the edge.

A goldfish flopped against the mattress, its fins waving weakly.

"Oh, Chiyo." She swallowed in an attempt to bury the sudden weight in her throat. When she gathered the fish in her hands, it didn't struggle, its mouth gaping, its eyes dark and nothing like the girl she had met. "Quick, the sink!"

Kyousuke was silent as the two watched the fish swim around in the basin.

"I don't think I'll go swimming again, for a long, long time," Tatsumi said, managing a weak smile as she looked up at him. Her shoes still felt damp, even though she knew they could not be.

"You almost drowned. You were lost, and it was my fault. My job is to watch your dreams, to keep something like this from happening. I failed you."

"But I could hear your voice!" Tatsumi laced the fingers of both hands together, looking down to hide the real smile that threatened to break loose. She shouldn't be smiling, not after this sham of an assignment. "You helped me realize it was a dream in the first place. So I didn't get lost!"

"How could you hear me?"

Tatsumi felt a laugh bubble up within her; her fingers twitched, and the strain she so carefully tried to keep under wraps started to slip. "Of course," she said, almost belatedly. "Sound travels faster in water, doesn't it?"

"Tatsumi-chan…" He sighed, his own thoughts as troubled as hers. Some of the things the old woman—the Houjyo matriarch—had said to him bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

"We'll get a bag for the fish," he found himself saying, "and then we should return home." He trusted Tatsumi's analyzes more than she knew. "I need to share something with you."

* * *

_To Be Continued..._


End file.
